


Up at the Slog

by Goodneighbor_Neighbor (Fan_by_Proxy)



Series: Commonwealth Canons (Yvette) [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24182686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_by_Proxy/pseuds/Goodneighbor_Neighbor
Summary: Sometimes a call for support doesn't end as happily as one might hope. [In which Sole witnesses her first legitimate Ghoul going feral and shares idle facts about herself with Hancock as he tries his hand at comfort]
Relationships: John Hancock & Female Sole Survivor, John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor
Series: Commonwealth Canons (Yvette) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737616
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Up at the Slog

Hancock watched Yvette turn away from the fire, dropping the leg of the Gunner she’d been dragging and doubling over. There was a gleam between her feet, a small puddle of drool on the concrete forced out by her retching. Wiseman laid a hand on his back.

“Downfalls of still having your nose, am I right?” he said, face creasing into a grim smile.

Hancock nodded. “I’m sorry about the loss, man.”

“So am I.” He replied. “You guys have done enough though; it’s ok to head back up the hill.”

Yvette turned around, dragging her mouth along her arm. “I am fine. It is only smoke.” She said just as the breeze kicked up again and another wave of said smoke rolled over her; the pyre wasn’t quite at its hottest yet and the clothes and hair were making the burn worse. She threw a hand over her mouth and turned away again to stifle the urge--this was part of life now; one could not simply leave the bodies where they lay if one meant to stay in the area.

“Really, it’s ok. We can take care of this.” Wiseman reiterated, going to her and forcibly turning her towards the hill. “You’ve already done _so_ much.” he said softly.

Hancock sighed and moved to the other side of her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Come on , beautiful. Let’s take a walk and get up wind. Come on, let’s go.” he started to pull as Wiseman gave her a little push from behind. Yvette was unsteady on her feet, but she was more inclined to move away with two people physically insisting.

“Poor kid.” Holly rasped. “Think this is her first bonfire?” she asked as Wiseman came back to help put another dumb Gunner bastard on the pyre.

“Probably that, and it’s the first time she’s seen somebody go under.” he replied.

“Taking it that hard?” Holly couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. Sure the little Vault girl with the nice smile and helpful hands had come off damn accommodating and friendly, but Holly always held at least two cups of skepticism in reserve when it came to smooth-skinned folk.

“You saw her.” he said, grunting as they rolled another onto the pyre. “Never pointed her gun at him, not once.”

Holly sighed. “Poor kid.” she paused to wipe the soot from her forehead. “Hell of a time to wake up, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…at least she brought a spare friend.” Wiseman said, draping an arm across her shoulders and watching the pyre rise. “Hancock’s alright, he knows what it’s like. He’ll help her out.”

Holly gave a gurgling, rasping laugh. “I’m sure he _will_ \--I should tell him I called dibs already.”

Wiseman shook his head. “Crazy gals.” he managed something closer to a real smile; sometimes that was all you _could_ do in the face of the Commonwealth. Just smile.

Hancock managed to walk her up the hill and around the building to sit on the boxes outside the lean-to the old toy-maker worked out of. He rubbed her back until she stopped retching, then went into his jacket for his smokes. Lighting one and taking a deep drag, he waited until she sat up and the shake went out of her shoulders before nudging her to offer her one.

Yvette shook her head.

“You sure? Thought everybody smoked back in the day.” he teased.

She snorted. “Just about? And I did, but when I became pregnant, I stopped.”

“Why?” Hancock turned his head to look at her as she leaned back against the lean-to wall.

Yvette shrugged. “I am not sure? It simply seemed like I should--after all, I had to be careful with caffeine and leave alone wine, so it seemed to make sense that smoke too would have to wait.”

“Guess it makes sense. Can’t really picture you smoking, anyway.” Hancock said with a snort. That wasn’t entirely true: she _looked_ like a dame out of Live & Love, minus a dirty halo and an ember in her mouth. The way she acted was another story; one he was kind of curious and kind of glad he was hanging around to see how it played out.

The laugh that came out was a little loud and startling; Yvette wasn’t sure why what he said struck her so funny, but it did. “Oh _please_ , before I am pregnant I smoke like a _fiend_. Menthols.” she added.

Hancock made a face. “Jeez, what’s the point in smoking if you’re gonna do it _wrong?_ ”

“I _like_ the tingling,” Yvette replied with a shrug and a laugh. “You sound like my husband; if he took my carrier by mistake, it was as if the enemy had poisoned him.” she snorted, wiping her eyes and shaking her head.

 _Goddamn_ she had a pretty smile, Hancock couldn’t help but think. “Well I mean _menthols_ , beautiful. You might as well have.” He smirked. It was the first time something like this had come up between them that she didn’t get weepy; talking about something as silly as cigarettes and swapped cases.

“I _like_ the tingling!” She repeated. “And he did not complain about poison if I gave him _une clope-bise_.” Yvette snorted.

“You lost me, beautiful. What’s that?” Hancock asked.

“Oh, you get a mouthful of smoke, and then you kiss and while you make the kiss, you give the other person the smoke.” she said brightly.

Hancock frowned. “Blowing in someone else’s mouth? The hell were you guys into back then?”

Yvette laughed. “No, no you do not _blow_ on the other person like a trumpet. You just sort of let the smoke…waft around.” she waved her hand loosely to try and illustrate.

He shook his head. “No way, doesn’t work.”

“It does so!” she protested.

On a whim, Hancock offered her the cigarette he’d about half-finished. “Prove it.”

She took it from him and drew in two deep drags. Then she reached out, cupping the back of his head and pulling him into a kiss.

Hancock felt the world disappear out from under him. There was hot smoke in his mouth but her lips were cool from the night, and her hand somewhere in between that on the back of his head. He inhaled as quickly as he could, tasting mostly his own confusion.

Yvette pulled back slowly, exhaling a thin little stream. “That was inappropriate, I am sorry.” she said immediately, cigarette to her lips and flaring bright before she realized what she was doing. “ _Ah_ , here, take this from me.”

Hancock took it back from her slowly, doing his best to ignore the way the filter was dented from her lips. “Hey, proved me wrong.” he managed to get out. “Still doesn’t convince me it’d be worth tasting menthol again.”

Yvette’s cheeks were hot, and she was glad for the nighttime darkness. “I have not even seen any in our wandering anyway.”

It seemed like the right thing to do was sail past that kiss, gloss over it like a nothing kind of thing. Hancock took a drag, crushing the filter a little to warp it further. “A fiend, huh?”

She nodded after a beat. “I was young, and desperate to ‘keep my figure’.” Yvette snorted, rolling her eyes at that long-ago younger self.

Hancock gave her a very exaggerated once-over. “I can see why.”

Yvette laughed again. “Oh _non_ , _non non non_ , before I have Shaun, I am a slim little model thing. Then I get pregnant, and spread, and never come back in.” She slapped her hips and ran her hands over her thighs.

“A model, huh?” Trying to imagine her looking any way but the way she looked right then was a good, valid reason to _keep_ looking at her…a bad habit that Hancock realized he was developing the longer he went around with her. It was probably nothing, a mild infatuation because she had a nice voice and those crazy eyes and was so good with a revolver.

“Eh, if you are young you are pretty and I had school to pay for.” Yvette said dismissively. She stood up and walked a step away, then arched her back and clasped her hands behind, pointing a toe forward and twisting a little until she about matched a pose on the mannequins that cropped up here and there.

Hancock whistled.

Yvette dropped the pose quickly, coming back to sit by him. “ _Merde_ , I cannot hold myself that way anymore!” She shook her head. “Hours on hours on hours of standing like that, but this was before I spread.” she shrugged.

“So…any fancy underwear photos we could go looking around for?” he teased.

Yvette swatted him. “You are _terrible_ , _Jean_! And _non_ , it was mostly office wear. Dresses and the little sweaters that you drape on your shoulders and wear with a little pin-and-chain.” She said, hands fluttering to indicate lines and shapes of the modeled clothing. “There was a swimsuit, one time.” She admitted with a shrug.

“Well I know what _I’m_ looking for from now on.” he teased, earning another swat.

“Please, this was even very much before the bombs. I was…oh I was something like a nineteen? Maybe twenty? Much before the bombs--I had Shaun a little before I graduated college, and I was still only twenty-five when we went into the Vault. You will have a better chance of finding menthol cigarettes than of seeing such a little, old photo.”

Hancock snapped his fingers. “Damn, dreams crushed.” he nudged her.

Yvette chuckled, and then sighed. The smile slid off her face.

Hancock nudged her leg. “Your mouth as dry as mine?” he asked. “I’m gonna go grab a drink, if there’s any to be had.”

She nodded.

He finished his cigarette and got up, still trying to keep the nothingness in that kiss. Her husband had to have been a dumb-lucky sonofabitch, Hancock thought as he went inside the concrete building to bum a couple of bottles of pop off Deirdre. It didn’t cost him anything; everyone was feeling pretty grateful after the gunfight.

Hancock came back to find her just as still and slouched as she’d been when he got up. He took a seat beside her again and opened a bottle, nudging her with it until she took it.

“ _Merci_.” Yvette replied, taking a sip and straightening up again. Then she sighed.

Hancock opened his own and got a swallow to wash the taste of cigarette smoke and _nothing else_ out of his mouth. “Talking about back then bring you down again?” he asked, sounding coarser than he meant to.

She shook her head. “ _Non_.” Yvette took another sip. “Do you remember the mess at Parsons?”

“Yeah?” he said slowly, sitting up a little straighter. “Why?”

“It was…it was like being in the nightmare all over again. I saw Brick’s light just…disappear. Poof, gone.” Yvette shook her head. “He was a sweet boy, Brick. So sweet and kind, with so much anger…I just never thought…I never thought it would take him. Am I the fool?” she looked at him, hurt and confused on top of the regular worry.

Hancock forced himself to take another swallow. She _wasn’t_ looking at him like she thought he’d go that way too, he reminded himself. They’d already had _that_ talk. “You uh, you get to know him? I mean before.”

Yvette nodded. “He had only been here for…maybe a few months, before I found my way here with Preston. You know how those things go; someone called for Minute Men help, it was said that perhaps a trade agreement could be arranged between Sanctuary and the Slog, the map said it was not far…the map _lied_ , but whatever.” she shrugged and took another sip. “We came to help make clean water, and set up a little defense? I had not yet been to Goodneighbor, but I had at least seen Diamond City, and everyone was very quick to tell me it could be dangerous. But then I am here, with Preston, and it is no different than any other farm? People work, they are tired, they laugh, they flirt. Holly was _very_ keen.” she snorted.

Hancock shook his head. “Didn’t ruffle you?”

“Oh no, I like a direct woman.”

Hancock tried not to spit out his mouthful. He caught Yvette’s expression out of the corner of his eye; one eyebrow up and lips pursed. It was time to tread lightly. “So…” he didn’t know where to go from there.

“I told her if I had not been so recently, brutally widowed, I would welcome the attention. She is very sweet, she understood.”

“Ah.” Hancock said in a noncommittal tone.

Yvette shook her head. “Pig.” she brushed his thigh with the back of her hand.

It was so gentle he wouldn’t even call it a tap, let alone a swat. “Sounds like you guys spent a couple of days here.”

She nodded. “The water purifiers took time, and that plant we pass not far from here? Super mutants.” Yvette shook her head and took a drink to stifle the urge to retch again. “So we work and talk in the evenings. Brick was very, very new to being a Ghoul. He had been ill, and left to die in a shed by his family. When he did not die but instead became…” she gestured to her face.

“A Ghoul.” Hancock prompted.

She nodded. “His family tried to shoot him? I cannot imagine it. I cannot imagine that you look at your child, that you birth and you raise, and you think to shoot him. I cannot fathom.” Yvette said firmly. “Ghoul or no.”

“People get scared.” Hancock said bitterly. “And it ain’t that they’re _wrong_ , but they sure as shit not right either.” he said firmly.

She nodded again. “He fled. Was robbed, wandered, all the things that I am finding out are very usual for the Commonwealth now. Until he came here…and I know he was greeted warmly, because that is how you are greeted here. Warmly, like a friend, until you show you are not a friend.” Yvette sighed again and wiped her eyes roughly. “It is nice. Kind, and familiar.”

Hancock stopped with the pop halfway to his lips. The wistful tone of her voice hit him _hard_ in the gut; he could get that. Could get wanting to walk into a corner of the world that felt like it wanted you--that could’ve been one of the guiding principles of Goodneighbor, if he ever ever thought to write down that kind of thing.

“When I left, I hoped he would be ok. That everyone here would be ok, of course, but he was so hurt…I wanted to help but how can I? I know nothing, I have no answers. All I can say is ‘here is good, and safe, and I look forward to see you again friend’, and hope that Wiseman can reach him.” Yvette took a big swallow and choked on it, thumping her chest with a fist.

Hancock reached over to pat her back. He left his hand there for a beat longer after she had cleared up. “There was nothing you could do, beautiful. Nothing anybody can do…it’s…it’s just one of those things. The anger gets ya…or it’s not always anger, sometimes it’s the sads too. Shit just gets to be too much and you kinda…quit. Your mind does, anyway. You fight it, you wrestle it, but sometimes it just gets to be too much.” He shrugged. “It’s something we all worry about, something we all try to fight back in our own way. Me, I like chems.” he joked. Well, half-joked. Not even that much of a joke, but he tried to sound lighter than he felt.

“I think you like more than chems.” Yvette replied. “I think this is why you are _le maire_. Maybe for you, it is the goal of helping that is your weapon…besides the chems.” she conceded.

Hancock blinked, stunned. He felt dressed down, taken apart, but it didn’t have that burning scorn at the edge; it was more like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and forgiven instead of punished. It was an unsettling feeling, to say the least. “You think too much, beautiful.” he managed to get out.

“I do.” Yvette nodded in agreement. “I am sorry, I am making you uncomfortable, I just…” she shook her head, rolling the bottle between her hands.

Hancock put his hand back on her back for the third…or was it fourth? Time that night. “Listen, beautiful. It’s a hard day when you see somebody you know lose their shit. It’s a worse day when you like the guy who’s getting lost. Don’t apologize to me for it, because there’s nothing you should be apologizing _for_ , ya feel?” he wanted to go on, to tell her how rare it was for a stranger to care that much for a Ghoul. That she was a moron and a sweetheart for trying to talk the kid back when he broke. That she had balls of steel for trying to understand the world she’d walked out into, and even harder balls than that for wanting to do right in it. But those were hard, hard words to get out sober.

Yvette opened her mouth, but whatever thought was going to come out was interrupted by Holly opening the fence gate. “The clean-up is about done, and the wind’s moving away from us now.”

“Holly, I am sorry--” Yvette started to say.

Hancock nearly wound up with Yvette on his lap as Holly came to join them on the impromptu seat. As it was, he was very _very_ aware of the line of her hip in comparison to his.

“Listen, gorgeous, _you_ got nothin’ to be sorry about!” Holly declared as she threw an arm around Yvette’s shoulders. “If I live another two hundred years, I will _never_ forget the look on that asshole’s face when you popped up with a Fatman on your shoulder. I mean that was _crazy_ \--and that _line_?” The ghoul gave a raspy laugh. “ _Ah ‘ave tay-kun moan med-seen, ‘ave yoo?’”_

“I do not sound like that!” Yvette protested.

“You kinda do, beautiful.” Hancock teased, sliding off the box to get some breathing room.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the accent, gorgeous.” Holly gave her a little shake. “But that and then you just drop a nuke, don’t even give them time to run? It was a hell of a message!” she cackled.

“I am learning that is about how abrupt you have to be these days.” Yvette said drily.

“Abrupt, _that’s_ a word for it.” Holly gave her another squeeze and then drew back a little, wiping her face with both hands. “Made my decade, that just did.”

“Well I am glad I can amuse.” Yvette took another drink and then offered Holly the rest of the bottle. “Here, I am sure you are dry from the…the clean-up.”

Holly accepted the bottle with one hand and took Yvette’s hand with the other before Yvette could put it down. “It’s ugly, I know. And I know it ain’t the way things used to be done, but well…that’s how it is now.” she said firmly.

“I know.” Yvette replied softly. “It is…well the smell is terrible yes, but I…” she sighed. “I am starting to care less and less for what happens to the people I must defend myself from? And that frightens me, yes. But right now I am just…I am sad for Brick.”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too. He was a nice kid. Just couldn’t find his swing again.” Holly took a deep swig. “But better it happened around us than him wandering off, or crossing a caravan or something. He got a little more dignity that way, in the end.” She finished the bottle, turning her head to belch. “ _Woof_ , sorry. Bottom of the bottle always gets me.” she said cheerfully.

Yvette gave a little chuckle.

“So you don’t worry about it; you just keep being smart and ready with the explosives.” Holly squeezed her hand, then patted her thigh and got up. “Got space next to my bunk roll.” she teased, bouncing her brow.

Yvette smiled, shaking her head. “I think I will watch the stars a little while longer. Then you can kick me off your roll for eating crackers _and_ snoring.”

Holly cackled again. “You’re something else, gorgeous.” She got up after another thigh pat and went back through the gate.

“You know, I’m pretty sure you could get her to propose to you.” Hancock teased, nudging her shoulder with his bottle and holding it there until she took it.

Yvette took a sip. “Still too freshly a widow. But when I have Shaun with me, we will come here; instead of chlorine he will smell the tarberries. It will be better for him. A growing boy should see growing things.” she took a deeper drink.

Hancock swallowed with her. When she got that hard stare, and her mouth thinned, it--well it couldn’t _actually_ give him goosebumps, but he felt almost like he had them. “You’ll get him back, beautiful. I goddamn know it. And if something happens to him…he won’t wind up like Brick.”

Yvette nodded, reaching up to take his hand and squeeze it. “Thank you _Jean_ …I did not know I needed to hear that until you say so.”

Hancock shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.” he curled his fingers a little, just in case she wanted to hold on a little longer. She pressed her cheek against his arm, and he looked down at her dark hair that barely threw back any of the light from the nearby lamp. It was crazy, how dark her hair got sometimes; he worked his hand free of hers after a little while and settled it on her shoulder. It was more comfortable that way, and if he was holding her shoulder, he couldn’t give in to the temptation to wrap his arm around her and press that dark head against him. They were friends--friendly. He wouldn’t want to make it awkward.

Yvette sat on the metal box, watching the stars and the horizon with Hancock’s hand on her shoulder for a long, quiet while. His hand was warm, and a little heavy; his presence next to her solid and real. “ _Jean_?”

“Yeah, beautiful?” His voice cracked; he’d gone too long without talking.

“I am glad we are friends.” Yvette said softly. She meant it; despite the rocky introduction, the squint-eyed measuring early on, things had somehow settled into a warmth that she desperately craved. He reminded her of so many lost friends; one day when she could hold herself together better, she might tell him about some of them. He would probably laugh, and that would be a sweet, wonderful time.

Hancock squeezed her shoulder. “Yeah…me too, beautiful.” He _was_ glad; wouldn’t have figured on them making friends like this in a hundred years. She wasn’t the first gal he’d gone roaming with, not by a long shot, but she had a way of doing things and saying things and just being that…well it was different and not different all at once. If he were smoother--both in the skin and the charm sense--he’d probably try a harder flirt, just to see what she’d do. But things were the way they were, and the occasional ‘inappropriate’ kiss was going to be the limit; which while not _fine_ , he could respect. And not just because she was a mean shot.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't smoke kids, it's bad for you. Seriously. 
> 
> Seriously, it is. Also I have no idea if French can compound terms like German does so if anyone wants to correct, feel free. Languages are fun and they all have their own weirdo idiosyncrasies :D


End file.
